Aspen Beake and the Daemon Within
by Ciadha
Summary: Aspen has never thought of herself as normal. She has always been an outsider anywhere she lives. One night in December her house receives a strange visitor who offers her an explanation. Will she fit in at Hogwarts or be an outsider for all of her life.


**A/N: This is the first time I have attempted any sort of prolonged writing so I would greatly appreciate any comments on what you think so far. I'm not really happy with the title at the moment, but it was all I could come up with. I will be working on chapter two soon. Thank you for taking the time to read my attempt at a story.**

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><p>The snow swirled around the tall mountain peaks, large white flakes fluttering in the endless wind to descend upon the small village nestled within the valley deep in the Scottish Highlands. The village was fairly remote with only a single main road snaking its way through the thick forest to bring a vital connection to the outside world. But on nights like this, when the weather turns colder than you would believe its possible to be, the village sits alone. The road closes and people retreat behind their doors to cower within the warming pools of firelight while they wait out the blizzard. Its on nights like this that I truly feel free.<p>

I had never felt the cold, its one of the reasons that I loved this house best of all. We moved around a lot. By the time I was ten I had lived in four houses. I could tell you that this was the reason I didn't have any friends but its not. The reason I have no friends is far more complicated. I will tell you all about it but you aren't quite ready to hear that part of my past just yet.

But anyway, back to the cold. When I was younger I asked my mother why the other children wrapped up in thick brightly coloured coats, complete with wooly hats and long scarves, whenever it started to snow. I would remark on their fresh pink cheeks as they raced around the open spaces, throwing clumps of snow and screaming with delight. Breath pooling in clouds of mist punctuating the sounds of their play in a visible accompaniment. I would sit apart from them, wrapped in the safety of the shadows and staring longingly at the smiles that spread unafraid across their faces. I asked my mother why the cold didn't bother me, on days like that I could walk through the village dressed only in shorts and t-shirt without batting an eyelid. Mother told me it was because I was special but I didn't feel special. I felt different.

I had learnt a lot since that day. When I was five I started school, we were living somewhere else at the time, and it didn't take long for me to notice just how different I was. I sat apart from the other children, always on the edge of their enjoyment but never included. I marvelled at the smiles that spread across their faces at the simplest of pleasures and I soon learnt that those smiles would soon fade if I mimicked the action. Something about my smile made the other children wary, on more than one occasion made them burst into tears and flee from me which caused a strange urge to rise within me, an urge to chase.

But over time I learnt how to hide. Learnt to never smile fully, never to stare to intently, never to speak unless spoken to. I learnt to be a shadow that everyone ignored. It was a lonely childhood but at least it was no longer filled with screaming and angry adults.

We moved to Scotland when I was nine. It was a very small village, with only fifteen other children my age. The weather was constantly poor, summer was reduced to a few weeks in July. My pale skin no longer caused me to stand out as a notable outcast. The other children had grown up together, so much so that my arrival caused quite a stir. My accent making me seem foreign and exciting, my aloof nature only firing their interest further. I resisted at first, knowing that the interest wouldn't last past the first time I smiled. I had been through this before, built up hopes of making friends only to have them dashed after a few weeks. Scotland was different, here it lasted for a few months. My loneliness becoming more evident as the pain began to diminish.

Everything was going well until October came around. The nights began to draw in, daylight ending earlier and earlier. Until one day the night came before the end of school. Humans are unique in many ways. One of which is the ability to break evolutionary tradition. There was a time in human history when we lived or died by such intuitions. Nowadays, we ignore the scratching at the window, but back in the day they would have started for the nearest sharp object.

Modern day reasoning tells us it's probably just a tree branch. We train our children to overcome such fears. Try to explain them away. It makes us feel powerful. It makes us feel safe. Only the old superstitions remain. They're the last vestiges of those ancient instincts. But acknowledging that history is frightening. It means that long ago scary things really did go bump in the night. And it begs an even scarier question. Where exactly did all those scary things go?

As night descends my aura changes. People begin to fear me more. An inexplicable desire to flee enters the small part at the back of their mind. I can see it in their eyes. A nervous glance in my direction when they think I'm not looking. Parents gripping their children tight, moving themselves between myself and their precious offspring, seemingly without knowing they are even doing it. But I notice. I notice them huddle together, the young within the circle of protective adults. Me alone on the outside, partially in shadow and only then feeling that I am where I should be...just not where I want to be.

It was now December, two months since I had become the outsider and things had only grown worse. Mother had told me to be back hours before, but on nights like this I had free reign of the village. I could walk through the streets without worrying that anyone might see me. I could stand in the playground and pretend that I was just another normal child in that village. I could smile fully. I walked towards the school without realising where my feet were carrying me, my thick heavy boots crunching on the freshly fallen snow. I walked without any sense of direction, my mind racing with memories of a time when I wasn't the outsider.

Eventually my feet came to a stop, facing the old school building. I rested on the low snow topped wall, my bare arms sinking into the soft white flakes. I was dressed in my favourite black t-shirt, complete with witty slogan, and dark cargo pants. My jet black hair tied back in a simple pony tail.

I stood against that wall for a long time. Completely motionless, indifferent to the cold and dark. Nothing would bother me, even animals seemed to be wary around me at night and tonight was perfect. The moon was new behind the thick, snow filled clouds. The air around me was as dark as it was possible to be, the few street lights that illuminated the village seemed to be solitary beacons fighting valiantly against the encroaching darkness.

The school building was built above the village, and as I turned my ice blue eyes could make out the peaks of houses coated heavily in a blanket of undisturbed snow. The darkness never seemed to bother me as much as others, my eyes seemed more able to pierce its veil. I brushed a patch of snow clear from the wall and jumped up to sit in its place. Looking over the village I saw the clear signs of smoke rising from chimneys. I sat and imagined the families that had been friendly only a few months before, imagined them sat in living rooms. Parents on sofas and children pressed against the windows to stare enviously at the glistening white flakes that fell from the sky in a thick whirl. Their faces glowing pink from the warmth of the crackling fires.

I sat upon the wall, alone in my inspection. The snow fell upon me, coming to rest atop my head and shoulders as I remained motionless. Only my eyes moving from house to house, pretending I was within those walls in turn.

The sound of footsteps encroached upon my isolation suddenly. The steady crunch of snow as heavy feet disturbed the ground. The steps were coming closer, climbing the shallow hill towards the school. The sound of heavy breathing muffled through thick clothing accompanied the footfalls. I moved swiftly, retreating into a patch of shadows beneath the tall oak tree that grew beside the school. I had learnt long ago that people grew exceptionally uneasy if they caught me outside with what they deemed inappropriate clothing. Words like 'neglect' or 'parents to blame' muttered under their breath.

From my hiding place I watched as a man came into sight, stopping to rest beside the same wall that I had been sitting on only a moment before. Despite my eyesight I couldn't make much of this man. He stood at least six feet tall, despite his bent posture as he leant with one hand resting on the wall. His breath coming in sharp, rapid sounds. He was wrapped in a thick overcoat that meant I couldn't make out much more about him.

"Why would anyone want to live out here?" He spoke softly, clearly to himself. The voice muffled by a thick scarf that wrapped itself multiple times around his head and covering all but his eyes. "Just my luck to be sent on a night like this.."

He stopped suddenly and my breath caught in my throat, his hands swept gently over the stones of the wall. Brushing the snow from where I had sat, clearly noting the shallow patch that had been cleared. His eyes casually roamed the area, stopping briefly on the shadows where I stood before moving away. Suddenly nervous, the man pulled his coat still more tightly around himself before climbing the hill further. Only one building of note was built above the school. The house was older than most in the village and its isolation was the reason we had bought it. This man, with all his talk of errands, was clearly on his way to our house.

I cut through the forest, my feet landing surely on the frozen ground. Pushing me up the hill easily as I moved between the trees. I knew that the road wound around the hill with a gradual grace, a slow incline that allowed vehicles to reach the gates to the house. Although the direct path was steeper I knew that I would arrive before the strange man. I ran quickly and emerged from the trees after only a few minutes.

The main house was surrounded by a wall that was a concession to an older time. In many places it had crumbled away leaving large stones missing. I took two quick strides, as I left the shelter of the trees, before leaping into the air and pulling myself over the wall and landing silently on the far side. I could see the main gates over to my right. They stood open, as always, but there was still no sign of anyone moving through from the road beyond. I began to jog lightly towards the house, aware that I stood out against the blanket of white snow all around me.

My room was on the third floor with the window facing out over the main gate and the village below. I could see it standing open, just as I'd left it hours before. The front of the house stood dark except for a solitary light burning from the ground floor where I knew my parents would be. As I reached the building my fingers traced the rough hewn stone as I began to climb, using the trellis to help me. Within moments I was pulling myself through the open window and into my room, the cold night air whirling around me.

I landed as quietly as I could, my heavy boots making it difficult. As soon as both my feet rested on the floor I froze, straining my hearing for any sign that my parents had notice. Despite the distance to the ground floor they had caught me returning on more than one occasion. Eventually I realised that they hadn't heard me and I let loose the breath that I had been holding unconsciously in one long, low stream. Moving forwards I searched through the piles of clothing that littered my room to find a suitable change of clothing. The snow that had gently fallen while I was outside had begun to melt now that I was back inside the warmth of the house. Already the clothing I wore was sodden with moisture.

I settled for another pair of dark trousers (most of my clothing was dark) and a t-shirt that housed a slightly less witty slogan that would probably cause less offence. I changed just in time to hear the ringing of the front door announcing the arrival of the strange man I had seen in the village. Slowly, moving silently now that my boots had been removed, I eased open my door and crept towards the ornate banister that spiralled down through the house to the ground floor. As I leant over the side I heard voice rise towards me.

"I am here to talk to you about..."

"I know why you have come." My fathers voice cut through the strangers, sharp and full of anger.

"Then you received the letter." The man responded, his voice steady despite the coldness that greeted him.

"Clearly, otherwise I would not have allowed you to enter."

"Mr Beake, my name is Professor Gray and I hope that you will at least listen to what I have to say.."

I did not hear my father's response as the door to the sitting room closed behind them. Silently I stood at the top of the stairs, locked in indecision. Eventually I decided to move and raced down the steps, only slowing as I approached the door. Coming to within a few paces where I stopped and listened once more.

"She does not belong here, surrounded by muggles." Professor Gray said. I didn't have the time to wonder about the word 'muggles' before my father continued.

"And you think she belongs with your kind?"

"Well, the Headmistress believes that now is the time to bridge the divide that exists between our peoples. After the last war the ministry is reeling and needs strong allies."

"We had no part in your war and care even less about the troubles that plague your ministry."

"You cannot deny that she has demonstrated some unusual behaviour. I am well aware what has caused you to leave your home so many times before."

"Fintan, please. Listen to what he has to say, if not for me then for Aspen." My mothers voice was quieter than the others, filled with emotion. She was the only person that I had ever seen convince my father to do anything.

"Very well wizard you have my attention. But know now that should you say anything that offends me your precious ministry will do nothing to save you."

The professor took a long moment before he responded. I could hear him taking long deep breaths to steady his nerves. "The Headmistress has sent me to invite Aspen to take a place at Hogwarts starting next year. Due to the unusual circumstances that surround this he deemed it sensible to send this offer now rather than during the summer as is the norm, giving you just short of a year to come to a decision."

Hogwarts? Wizards? This stranged seemed to be becoming more unusual as time passed. Yet the strangest thing about the conversation was the fact that my parents seemed unaffected by the absurdity of it.

"Why should we send Aspen to Hogwarts? They would not accept her as one of their own."

"It is true that not everyone would accept her at first. But the Headmistress and I believe that over time the differences would become less of a distinction."

"Then I suppose we must ask Aspen for her thoughts, especially since she seems eager to be a part of the conversation anyway." My mother interrupted into the conversation and I knew I had been caught. "Aspen, please come in."

Cursing silently under my breath I took a deep breath and opened the sitting room door, bowing my head as I entered.

"Mother. Father. I am sorry for listening without permission."

"Nonsense Aspen, come and listen to what the wizard has to say." My mother said it with ease but as I looked up I saw that my father was not so forgiving. I walked slowly across the room and as I did I noticed the interest present on the professors face. He was younger than I had first thought. Now devoid of his thick overcoat I could see that he was slim and athletically built. He sat across from my parents and met my eyes without flinching. There was no sign of fear as he spoke directly to me.

"Aspen, it is a pleasure to meet you. I am sure that all of this seems quite bizarre. A strange man arriving in such conditions and speaking about Hogwarts and wizards."

I sat staring, my lips pressed tightly together and my eyes meeting his.

"Well I have come to offer you a place at Hogwarts, if your parents agree of course."

"And what exactly _is _Hogwarts?" I asked.

"Forgive me. It is difficult to remember that you know nothing about our world. Hogwarts is a school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It has taught magic to students for hundreds of years and is one of the foremost schools of magic anywhere in the world."

"And why would you offer me a place in this school?"

"Well, isnt that obvious?"

I stared back blankly at him, refusing to answer. "Well because you are a witch of course."

I continued to stare at him sceptically.

"Have you never done something unusual when you were particularly scared or excited?"

I had indeed done many things over the years. Terrible things. Things that caused us to leave our home in the middle of the night, never to return. Incidents that nobody ever spoke of, at least not in front of strangers.

"I do not get scared or excited. My emotions are tightly controlled."

"I see." Professor Gray was beginning to shiver in the cool air of the house. Despite it being slightly above the outside temperature there was no heating within the room and it was clearly beginning to affect him. Coming to the same realisation he looked around the room and spotted the fireplace that stood empty. The hearth devoid of logs. Casually he reached a hand inside his jacket and pulled out a length of wood. Turning towards my father he addressed him, "Do you mind if I lit a fire to ward off the bite in the air?"

My father looked less than impressed, a small sneer rising on his lips before my mother responded. "Not at all."

The professor smiled gratefully and flicked his wrist. The fire erupted immediately, thick flickering flames that filled the room with warmth and an orange glow. "Now, thats better."

I had never seen anything like it before, my eyes wide as I stared at the logs that had appeared and were now burning as if they had been lit hours before. I sat fascinated by the fire, feeling as if I was down in the village once more.

"Could I do that?" I said, barely above a whisper.

"In time you could, after a lot of practice and study."

"No daughter of mine is going to Hogwarts to be brainwashed by the likes of you!" My fathers voice was filled with anger as it rang out into the room.

The professor sat across from him, his hand wrapped tightly around the length of wood. He sat staring at my father, his eyes filled with determination rather than the fear that I expected.

"Fintan, we cannot deny that she is different. I love her with all of my heart but we cannot teach her what she needs to learn. Perhaps they can." My mother said calmly.

Eventually my father looked towards us, his anger fading slightly as he regained his seat. He seemed deflated as he spoke softly. "Very well wizard. If she wishes to go then I will not stop her."

The professor nodded before turning towards me, his grip relaxing finally. "Aspen, I do not expect you to answer yet. There is a lot for you to take in. We will need your answer by next summer at the latest. Between now and then I propose that we meet to discuss Hogwarts and other things so that you can make an informed decision. Does that seem reasonable?"

I nodded lightly, it was all I could managed. Too confused to answer vocally.

"Good!" A broad smile crossed his face as he clapped his hands together and regained his feet. "Then I will bid you a good night and take my leave. It is a long journey back through the village and I wish to get underway immediately. I will be in touch soon Aspen. Until then, if there is ever anything you wish to discuss then please do not hesitate to contact me. Mr and Mrs Beake."


End file.
